


Now You See Me, Brother

by SerpinaSilverTongue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Gen, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Character Death, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Odinson Bro Feels, POV Thor (Marvel), Prisoner Loki (Marvel), Protective Thor (Marvel), Sassy Loki (Marvel), Stuffed!Loki, Stuffing, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Thor: The Dark World, binge eating, emotional overeating, even if he doesn't want to admit it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24030703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerpinaSilverTongue/pseuds/SerpinaSilverTongue
Summary: The prison scene from Thor: The Dark World but with a twist. When Loki drops the illusion, Thor finds more than a destroyed cell. Amidst the chaos sits Loki, his hair a frizzy mass of curls, his normally pristine clothing rumpled, and his stomach hugely distended.
Relationships: Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 39





	Now You See Me, Brother

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Processpending](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Processpending/gifts).



> Processpending and her delightful stories convinced me that the world needs more sassy, overfull Loki. Then I re-watched Thor: The Dark World, and this happened. I don't know what this is, but I think I like it.

“Thor. After all this time and now you come to visit me.”

As Loki leaned forward, his lips curled in a sneer. To Thor’s eyes, he appeared every bit as unrepentant as he had at his trial upon their return to Asgard. The God of Lies stood with his hands clasped behind his back, the glimmer of a challenge in his eyes.

“Why?” he goaded. “Have you come to gloat? To mock?”

Words. They had always been the Trickster’s most powerful weapons, but Thor refused to be moved by them now. He refused to take the bait.

Much had changed since they were brothers in any true sense. Though Thor scarcely recognized the icy, taunting creature who stood before him, he knew that even now Loki remained unaltered in one thing. Even now Loki could not truly be so heartless, so unmoved in the face of their mother’s death.

“Loki, enough. No more illusions,” Thor offered up his own challenge.

He knew that his words had struck home when Loki’s eyes widened, his jaw tensing almost imperceptibly. Thor watched, his own resolve unyielding, as Loki’s face fell. The Liesmith’s eyes closed with a shake of his head. Even he could not deny that he had been caught in this deception.

With a shimmer of green light, the carefully crafted façade dissolved, leaving in its stead only chaos and destruction. The brother Thor had known had not been given to fits of anger. Loki had ever been the calm, levelheaded sibling. Unflappable. But then Thor reminded himself that this was no longer his brother.

Where moments ago there had stood a well-ordered room that scarcely resembled a prison cell, Thor now saw a table overturned, a mirror shattered, a goblet on its side in a puddle of blood-red wine, the splintered remains of a chair. Perhaps the most disturbing of all was the fact that the stacks of books had been reduced to heaps of battered covers viciously severed from their pages, which now lay soiled and scattered throughout the cell like the fallen dead upon the field of battle.

Strangely, there were also dozens of platters and bowls. Many were empty save for crumbs, bones, and smudges of sauces, jams, and other foodstuffs Thor did not care to identify. The others held a selection of sweetmeats fit for a king’s banquet. Not one of these dishes was broken or even chipped. It was bizarre.

Amid the wreckage, Loki reclined against the far wall. The younger prince’s hair, normally straightened and slicked into submission, was a frizzy mass of curls. His glassy eyes were rimmed by dark circles. One eyebrow was raised in a manner Thor had long ago come to associate with pain. One bare foot bore streaks of dried blood.

It was the sight of Loki’s stomach, though, that caused Thor to shift uncomfortably. The swollen organ protruded like a grassy mountain, jutting out from the otherwise lean plains of his brother’s body, straining the seams of his rumpled green tunic until it was a wonder that they had not burst. That he himself had not burst. One pale hand rested atop the mound, serving to accentuate its curve.

“Now you see me, Brother,” Loki said in a hollow voice.

With a wave of his hand, a pastry floated from the platter nearest him. He plucked it from the air with a flourish, folded it neatly in half, and then proceeded to cram the whole of it into his mouth. Never breaking eye contact, Loki chewed a few times and then swallowed. Thor cringed as the delicacy wormed its way into the younger prince’s already packed gut with an audible gurgle. It was ridiculous, but he imagined that he could see him bloating further even as he watched. Groaning, Loki turned his attention to his distended abdomen, kneading it gingerly.

Thor moved to the other side of the corner cell to get a closer look, still unable to believe his eyes. While he had seen his brother in a similar state on multiple occasions, the sight never failed to unnerve him.

Loki’s appetite was fickle, but he seldom resorted to gorging himself like this. Most often, it had been simply to prove that he could or for the odd pleasure he seemed to derive from seeing the shock it brought to those unaware of this strange talent he possessed. He had no such audience now, nor could he claim that he was refueling his magical energy by glutting himself on sweets after battle or training. Thor frowned. Now that he thought of it, perhaps Loki’s overindulgences were not such a rarity. His excuses were certainly many and varied. Still, this was the worst possible timing.

“What have you done?” Thor asked, keeping his voice level.

A gigantic belch erupted from the glutted god, eliciting a sigh as he massaged his stomach a bit more firmly now.

“Clearly, I have broken fast,” Loki drawled. He seemed content to leave his explanation at that, his deft fingers working out more gas bubbles in a series of smaller burps and hiccups.

“ _Loki_ ,” Thor said, an edge of warning creeping into his tone. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Oh, don’t— _hic_ —look at me like that,” Loki replied, rolling his eyes. “This was long overdue. I had eaten nothing in days— _uuurrp_ —until now.”

Thor frowned. It was not uncommon for Loki to miss several meals or even to be absent for days when absorbed in some project or other. When he had finished, he would always arrive at the royal table ravenous, but he had no such work to complete here. A lie then. At very least not the whole truth.

“And so, you decided to make up for lost time?” Thor demanded, stepping nearer to the magical barrier that separated them.

In reply, the Trickster summoned another pastry and shoved it into his mouth, his eyes sparking with defiance as he chewed, moaning almost obscenely. He swallowed, only for his eyes to grow wide. Letting out a hiss, Loki slumped further against the wall, rubbing the bowed-out sides of his belly with renewed vigor.

“Loki,” Thor tried again, his voice softening as concern he did not wish to feel overcame him, “you must not harm yourself.”

“Of course not!” Loki spat. “Not now that you— _hic_ —have need of me.”

“I fear that I shall always have need of you,” Thor said. The words had rushed out before he could stop them. Frustrated by the unintentional confession, he turned away and began to pace.

_Damn!_ Seeing Loki suffer, even now, was unbearable. It seemed that there remained something of the protective older brother in him, though he would not admit it aloud upon pain of death. Thor could not take back his response, so he forged ahead.

“This is more than breaking fast,” he prodded, returning to stand before the cell. “Will you not tell me why you have done this to yourself?” It was an appeal. Nearly a plea.

“Can you not guess?” Loki replied.

Thor was wholly unprepared for the pained smile Loki gave him before looking away, his eyes going distant.

“She sent me soup,” he said. They both knew the _she_ to whom he referred. Loki’s voice was soft and unnaturally calm. “I could not eat it. Did not wish to. Then word arrived that she was gone.”

Loki looked so lost then, his brow furrowed, his eyes wide and childlike. Thor dared not interrupt this rare moment of transparency. He wondered if Loki had been drinking as well as stuffing himself senseless. Too much wine always loosened the Trickster’s tongue, something that he generally avoided at all costs, but here he had thought himself alone.

“We last parted ways with an argument,” Loki went on. “I said—” He choked back a sound that was somewhere between a hiccup and a sob and then clenched his jaw, unable to continue.

But Thor knew. He had overheard when visiting their mother upon his return from Vanaheim.

_He’s not my father!_

_Then am I not your mother?_

_You’re not._

_Always so perceptive about everyone but yourself._

Frigga’s eyes had held tears, quickly masked in a smile as she welcomed Thor home. Now tears welled in his brother’s eyes, threatening to spill over. Loki took a moment to compose himself, breathing as deeply as his heavy meal would allow him.

In that moment, Thor felt the foundations of his resolve begin to crumble. He had promised himself that he would no longer think of Loki as his brother, and yet the sight of those tear-filled eyes was like a dagger to his heart. Suddenly, he was overcome by the strange urge to break into that cell and crush Loki in one of those hugs that had always left him squirming and protesting. He reminded himself that this response could well be the very thing Loki had wanted—well, certainly not the hug, but the emotions behind it—that his brother might be playing upon his sympathy. He could not trust him, yet he could not entirely shut him out of his heart.

“When unleashing my anger proved insufficient release, I turned to other means,” Loki continued, giving his stomach a vicious dig with the heel of one hand and wincing at the discomfort he inflicted upon himself. “The soup came first, of course, and the bread she sent with it. The guards were only too willing to provide me with more food. It was her command that I should have anything I wanted to eat, whenever I wish for it. Time holds little significance here, but I should think that I have been feasting for several hours now.”

Both princes were silent for a time. Thor resumed his pacing, keeping watch over his brother. Loki, for his part, continued to rub his swollen stomach, staring into the middle distance. Heaving a sigh, he summoned an almond cake and devoured it like a starving man. Thor watched in horror as his brother finished off the generous confection in a matter of minutes, sucking the crumbs from his fingers with a soft hum, only to cast a glance towards the remaining delicacies.

“Loki stop, or I shall summon the guards,” Thor admonished.

Although by some remarkable feat of will he managed not to yell, Thor could not stem the rising panic. There had been something desperate in Loki’s eyes as he demolished that cake, something that Thor had never seen before, and it frightened him. His Loki might have been lost to him, transformed into something beyond redemption, but he would not stand by and witness his brother’s death at his own hands. Thor remained ready to intervene, but there was no need. Loki made no move to eat more. Instead, he returned to staring into oblivion, one hand trailing absently over his belly. At last, his gaze wandered back to Thor.

“Did she suffer?” he asked, green eyes searching. Imploring.

It was Thor’s turn to look away, his hand fiddling with the vambrace on his opposite arm. They were running out of time, and this conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn he did not wish to dwell upon. There would be time to mourn later.

“I did not come here to share our grief. Instead I offer you the chance of a far richer sacrament,” he said, meeting eyes with his brother once again.

Loki tilted his head, his lips twitching, although Thor saw no humor in the situation. “That does sound tempting. And here you led me to believe that I have had enough rich feasting already.” He belched shamelessly and offered Thor an infuriating smirk.

Thor remained unsmiling, unable to keep up with his brother’s moods, much less his motivation. What was the Trickster playing at now?

“Excuse me,” Loki snickered.

“There is no excuse for you,” Thor said.

This familiar banter only caused Loki’s eyes to brighten. “Perhaps not…. Go on,” he conceded with a nod.

“I know you seek vengeance as much as I do. You help me escape Asgard and I will grant it to you. Vengeance,” Thor clarified, not wanting Loki to get any ideas. “And afterward, this cell.”

Loki’s brow furrowed. Again, he looked away, his eyes turbulent. Then he gave a dry chuckle, the derision returning to his expression without warning. “You must be truly desperate to come to me for help. What makes you think you can trust me?”

Thor’s patience was wearing thin. He took a step away, hating that taunting tone that warned him to beware that Loki was as many steps ahead of him as ever. He would not fall prey to the God of Mischief’s manipulations.

“I don’t,” Thor said, leveling Loki with a firm gaze. “Mother did. You should know that when we fought each other in the past, I did so with a glimmer of hope that my brother was still in there somewhere. That hope no longer exists to protect you. You betray me and I will kill you.”

Would he though? Thor hoped that was a question he would never be forced to answer.

Slowly, Loki smiled. “Hm, when do we start? Tomorrow, perhaps? I have rather a lot of digesting to do just now.”

“At once!” Thor declared. Thunder rumbled outside as his frustration boiled to the surface. “The Convergence is upon us. The Dark Elves must not be allowed to attack Asgard again. Malekith will act this very day. We have no time for you to sleep off the results of your gluttony.”

“Thor, I shall be of little use like this,” Loki said. As if to prove his point, he shifted his weight forward and made to stand, struggling for a moment before sinking back with a grunt. His stomach sloshed and gurgled in protest. Grimacing, he returned to rubbing it in slow circles.

Thor crossed his arms and fixed his brother with a glare.

Loki sighed. “What is the time?”

“Just past dawn,” Thor replied, flexing one hand with ever-fraying patience. “Time to be on our way.”

Loki nodded and seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. “Very well. Fortunately, I have just the spell for the occasion, but I expect a proper feast again when we return.”

He gave his stomach a regretful look, patting the swollen crest before trailing both hands down the sides, green sparks emanating from his fingertips. Slowly, the engorged organ began to shrink, settling at last with only a slight bulge.

“That should be sufficient. I do hope he doesn’t mind,” Loki said, grinning.

“Mind?” Thor blinked. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Who? What have you done now?”

“Your friend,” Loki replied with a smirk. “The dolt is always stuffing himself, so it should make little difference. Hel, in all likelihood he won’t notice a thing. I kept back some for myself, because I really was hungry, you know, and his capacity is not quite so impressive as mine. I would hate to kill him, particularly with a meal he had not the pleasure of eating himself.”

“Loki! What in the Nine are you talking about?” Thor scowled at him.

“Calm yourself, Brother,” Loki sighed. He stood and smoothed out his clothing, that maddening smirk still in place. “I’ve just sent the better part of the load off to Volstagg.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this odd little one shot. It's not a proper kink fic, given that there is no sex, but it was fun to write none-the-less. Comments and kudos are welcome, of course.
> 
> Now Volstagg has all the more reason to threaten Loki before he leaves for Svartalfheim with Thor and Jane. The poor guy definitely ended up puking his guts out that morning with all of that sugar. Like most Asgardian warriors, he's more the meat and potatoes sort.
> 
> I have an idea for a Ragnarok!Loki story that is a sort of a follow-up to this and less of an angst fest. At least it is in my head. The characters may have other ideas. Let me know if you would like to read more in this universe, and I'll see what I can do.


End file.
